


City of Love

by owl_coffee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, He likes to watch her eat, Paris (City), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Romance, scarletvision - Freeform, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 23:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owl_coffee/pseuds/owl_coffee
Summary: Vision's nervous. Wanda can tell by the way he shifts in the cheap café chair, keeps re-reading the menu.Vision and Wanda meet in Paris for the first time.





	City of Love

Vision's nervous. Wanda can tell by the way he shifts in the cheap café chair, keeps re-reading the menu.  
  
"Relax, this is nice," she tells him.  
  
"It's not - too sweet? As you have observed, I'm not very good at selecting food," he says.  
  
"It's nice." Wanda chooses a crepe with strawberry sauce and a thick hot chocolate, the way they make it here. Vision watches her eat it, seems to get pleasure from just examining her enjoying the food. "It's a shame you don't eat," she tells him, wiping the last of the strawberry sauce off her mouth. "Because that was _delicious_."

He smiles, shy. "I'm glad you liked it." He's still staring at her mouth.  
  
"Oh, do I have something?" Wanda wipes again with the napkin. After a moment, she asks, "Vision, what are we doing?" Wanda hates to bring things back to earth. "I mean, I'm a fugitive. I can't believe you arranged to meet me here just to have lunch with me."  
  
"I, well, I thought - " Vision seems unusually tongue-tied. "Perhaps I did simply wish to have lunch with you."  
  
Wanda shakes her head. "You got out from under the noses of the Avengers for this? A café in a side-street of the 11th Arrondissement? Come on." Vision looks strangely hurt. Wanda sighs. "It's OK, it was really nice of you to take me here first. Who do we have to fight? You need my powers, right?"  
  
"Wanda, would you believe that I simply wish to spend time with you? I've missed you," asks Vision quietly. Wanda still doesn't quite believe it, but figures after she's come all this way, she might as well enjoy his company for a while. Before she finds out what's really going on.

  
It's nice, walking in Paris with Vision. His human disguise lets them explore like normal tourists, stepping aside for traffic, pausing to look at the displays in the window of a chocolate shop. They don't talk about work. After a while, she finds her fingers reaching to twine around his, and he solidifies enough to let her hold his hand comfortably. Vision notices her savouring the smell of roasting chestnuts in a brazier on the street, and pays the man for a cone for her, hot waxed paper filled with little candied nuts. An indulgence, like this whole day.

  
They reach the banks of the Seine at sunset, just as the lamps are beginning to come on. "I don't know how humans arrange this," says Vision to her, suddenly. "There seem to be many factors I find it difficult to calculate for. How do you know when it is the correct moment?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Wanda laughs quietly.  
  
"This," says Vision, and kisses her on the mouth.  
  
It's awkward and clumsy and sincere, and it takes her breath away. He pulls back almost at once. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep - in the dramas, it seemed customary that the male would act first - well, my research indicated - "  
  
She grabs his face between her hands and kisses back, fiercely. He hums with contentment, wraps his hands around her waist. Wanda hears an exclamation behind them in French. She draws back a moment. "Uh, Vis, your real face is showing," she laughs.  
  
He looks dazed. "I do apologise," he says to no-one in particular. Wanda laughs again, giddy.  
  
"There's no need to worry," she tells the dumpy Frenchwoman nearby who dropped her groceries in alarm. Wanda summons a surge of red power and pulls them back together for her, but the brown paper bag is torn so it doesn't quite work. The woman still looks scared, crosses herself. " _Monsters!_ "  
  
Wanda feels a spike of hurt in her chest. Why couldn't they just be ordinary, for once? Was it too much to ask? But then strong hands grab her from behind and she's in the air. Wanda turns to look at Vision, in his true form now, golden cloak streaming out behind them half-transparent. He holds her in his arms. "I know you can fly on your own," he says, "But I thought it might be nice to show you the view like this."  
  
"Vis, she - "  
  
"Don't think about her," he murmurs. "Think about this."

In the clear twilight Paris spreads out below them, like a glowing tapestry embroidered with street-lights. The river is a shining silver ribbon in the dusk. Echoes of laughter and music reach them from the shadowed streets, but it's mostly quiet up here. Peaceful. They drift above it, Vision's power making Wanda feel lighter than air.

"Vis, you're secretly a big romantic, aren't you?" Wanda sighs, contented.  
  
"I may have watched all of the movies that the Internet Movie Database classifies as 'romantic'," admits Vision. "Eighty-two percent of them concur that Paris is considered to be the most romantic city in the world."  
  
Wanda smiles and kisses him again. "You really did your research."

 

  
"We're still technically enemies, you know," she says later, drowsily, their flight having landed them in Montmartre by a late-night kebab place that serves surprisingly decent food. There's a black cat watching them from under a table nearby, too shy to approach and beg for scraps yet. "I won't sign the Accords."  
  
"How about we make an agreement," suggests Vision.  
  
"Let's see where this goes?"  
  
"Something like that. Without worrying too much about whose side we're on. When we are together, let us think about - us." Vision's hand cups the side of her face.

Wanda closes her eyes for a moment.  
  
"All right. Yes."


End file.
